


Parental Prerogative

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Aggressive PTO Mom Jason, Alternate Universe - Parenthood, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Dick is a Hot Teacher, Drug Dealing, Jason is a Single Father, M/M, Mild Legal Commentary, Open Ending, Recreational Drug Dealing, Single Father!AU, Some pining, can i make it anymore obvious, inappropriate relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-08-19 16:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jason's child has a new teacher. Jason isn't thrilled (until he is.)





	Parental Prerogative

**Author's Note:**

  * For [element78](https://archiveofourown.org/users/element78/gifts).

“Daddy! Daddy? Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” The Kiddo’s voice sing-songed, urgency swelling and voice pitching each time Jason attempted to curl up tighter. Finally, awareness, The Kiddo’s insistence, and memory of the day’s impending PTO meeting coaxed Jason into blinking at the round, very close face of his daughter. 

His eyes, but wider and younger, framed by the thick, silky, black hair of her mother blinked at him with an accompanying frown. 

“Daddy, up! We’ve gotta _ go _!”

Jason grinned softly, and then closed his eyes and gave a theatrical yawn. “I don’t know, sunshine, I think I could go for a few more hours of sleep.” It was a jest, but not an exaggeration. He’d spent another late night on the phone with her mother, negotiating visitation. Since most of Jason’s income went unreported, family court granted him a substantial amount of child support from Talia, which he depended on to fund Kiddo’s prestigious private school and intramural gymnastics course. Unfortunately, Talia knew about his unreported income and even more about his under-the-table business, and she wasn’t opposed to leveraging it for weekends and even the spare weeknight with The Kiddo. 

They walked a fine line with one another.

“No!” she screeched, crawling onto his bed and leaping on him. He left out a sincere, “_ oof, _” as her pointy knee drove into his diaphragm. 

“Alright, alright!” he cried out, opening his eyes and sitting up to scoop her into the air. She kicked, but he held her out and clear of the mattress until she quieted. “I certainly don’t remember you being this excited to go to the dentist last week,” Jason teased.

She made a face. 

“Hurry up, we’re gonna be late! I won’t get a sticker, and I won’t see Mr. Grayson at pickup!” she demanded with an experimental wiggle. Jason’s grip held firm; a history of street-fighting and a stint with mixed martial arts left him more than equipped to manage an excitable kindergartner. Generally.

Jason raised his eyebrows. “Oh? You were so upset when Ms. Lance left, we still like Mr. Grayson?” Jason hadn’t met the man, but both he and The Kiddo had been distraught when Dinah resigned from her position; Jason was especially looking forward to the consequently cancelled aikido class that Dinah had offered to teach prior to her resignation. Better Dinah to introduce The Kiddo to martial arts rather than one of Talia’s associates. At least the school supplemented Dinah’s loss with Mr. Grayson, although Jason hadn’t yet met the man and wasn’t thrilled with the sudden turnover. 

The Kiddo’s wiggling grew frantic enough that Jason was forced to set her down, lest she slip from his grasp and take a tumble. Seemingly sobered, she sat cross-legged on the mattress and regarded Jason very seriously.

“That was before. This is now. But we have to _ go _, okay? Go, go, go.” 

Jason nodded. “I see. Then I guess I better go put on some pants then, huh? Unless you want me to meet Mr. Grayson in pajamas.” 

That was a mistake. Her face lit up, and she straightened so quick, he worried she might throw her tiny spine out. 

  
“Pajama day?” She squealed, already wrestling off the dress she’d put on herself (backward, but Jason’s was impressed with her initiative nonetheless.) 

“No, no, that’s not until next month,” Jason said quickly, tucking her half-shucked clothes back over her head. “Today you’ve got to wear your big girl clothes, and Daddy needs to change into his big boy clothes. Can you go to the kitchen and get ready for breakfast?” 

One arm loose, the dress hanging by a quarter strip of velcro and a prayer, The Kiddo slid off the bed and scrambled out the door, nearly running into the door frame in her haste. When she was out of sight, Jason scowled. 

This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned Mr. Grayson, but it was the first time she was this eager to part with Jason over a _ teacher _. Mr. Grayson had only been teaching her class for the past week and a half, but not a day had gone by without her chattering his praise. She’d loved Ms. Lance, she’d talked about her too, but she’d never been this enthralled. 

And the transition happened so suddenly, and Jason was so averse to _ sudden _. He’d yet to wrangle an explanation from the administration, and attempts at rallying the other parents had fallen on deaf ears. 

If Jason were honest, he was off his usual, impassioned parent game. 

Or maybe he was just frazzled over his prolonged contact with Talia. Although she’d never expressed an interest in child rearing, and she’d certainly been more than happy to split custody in favor of Jason when The Kiddo was born, she’d lately inserted herself more obviously into The Kiddo’s life. Jason wasn’t prepared to explain, nor was he sure how to begin explaining, his relationship to Talia with The Kiddo, and he resented having to even consider the issue. 

As if that weren’t enough, he was having difficulty getting accommodations for a fundraiser he was attempting through the church at which he volunteered. A small inner city church, their youth building was far too small, and quite frankly too unsafe, for the events he wanted to implement. The school and its extensive facilities seemed a solution, but while the initial talks went well, the principal recently put the entire arrangement on hold while they experienced a transition in events coordinators. And the new events coordinator, from what the principal had described, was trepidatious about the church’s use of the school’s facilities. 

Jason couldn’t imagine why, it wasn’t as if the school were a public school, he was well within his rights, even while representing a religious organization, to request the facilities. 

The Kiddo’s shouts from the kitchen drew Jason to scramble from bed, splash water on his face, and dress. He wrestled some wax into his hair and spritzed on some cologne, coughing when he realized he’d spritzed the gift cologne The Kiddo had bought for him with Roy instead of the actual, wearable stuff that Bruce continued to gift him even beyond their estrangement. 

The damage done, and having woken up too late for a shower, he cut his losses and met The Kiddo in the kitchen. She was seated at the table, her dress straightened but still backwards, happily chanting, “waffles,” but throwing in “Mr. Grayson”’s name intermittently. Jason hid his scowl in the freezer. 

“Is Uncle Roy picking me up?” The Kiddo asked nonchalantly, although Jason recognized it for the loaded question it was. 

“No, it’ll be me today,” Jason promised her, popping her waffles into the toaster oven and grabbing an apple to cut up. “Daddy’s all yours this afternoon. I’ll be at the school for the PTO meeting anyway, and then maybe we can go to the park?” 

She beamed and began chanting “park” in lieu of “Mr. Grayson,” and Jason took that victory for what it was. 

The Kiddo fed, her dress righted, and Jason’s own breakfast of a hastily scarfed granola bar eaten, Jason packed her into the car and set out for the school. Despite her anxiety, they were plenty in time for drop off, although Jason parked the car and escorted her in anyway, anxious to catch the principal and perhaps bring up with the public facilities issue again. 

Ms. Bertinelli was occupied when he arrived, but Jason found himself suddenly unable to speak when he saw the man to whom she was speaking. 

Easily the prettiest man Jason had ever seen, Ms. Bertinelli’s colleague had black hair, a lean if athletic build, and an unassumingly soft expression. He spoke animatedly, laughing and smiling a disarming, charming smile. 

Jason was so caught up that he nearly missed The Kiddo’s shrill cry of, “Mr. Grayson!” if she hadn’t darted from his side to make a running jump into the man’s arms. Jason lurched forward in belated shock, but Mr. Grayson turned, caught The Kiddo, and slung her into the air in one fluid movement, as if this were a frequent ritual of theirs. And maybe it was, but Jason didn’t have time to unpack that when faced with Mr. Grayson’s flexing biceps as he hoisted Jason’s child onto his shoulders. 

“What are you doing here?” Mr. Grayson laughed. “You should be in class! Is Roy around?” Mr. Grayson looked around, but locked eyes with Jason. 

Jason’s mouth was dry, but he managed to work up a scowl anyway. This was, after all the man stealing his daughter’s affections. 

“Oh! You’re not Roy!” Mr. Grayson said. “Mr. Todd, I’m presuming?” 

“His name is Daddy,” Kiddo corrected. 

“Ah, Daddy then?” Mr. Grayson mused. 

Jason choked, but Mr. Grayson only winked, and that somehow made it even worse. 

He wasn’t sure for how long he gawked in scandalized shock before Helena called over, “Jason! Glad you came in, this is Dick Grayson. The new events coordinator.” 

Not for the first time, Jason cursed whatever deity decided that the sum of Jason’s life should be penance for humanity’s crimes. 

“I see,” Jason said, but then the bell rang and The Kiddo began wiggling on Dick’s shoulders whilst chanting, “Class, class, class!” 

“Duty calls,” Dick said with a wink. “But I did get your facility access request. “We’ll talk tonight.” Dick lifted The Kiddo from his shoulders and she threw her tiny arms around Jason’s leg. He placed a hand on her head.

“Be good,” he recited their usual farewell. “Unless the other kids are being mean.” 

“Bye, Daddy!” She said, diverting from the script before scampering off with Dick close at her heels. 

“Helena,” Jason began, voice edged. 

“That was an obnoxious phrase and a terror to mediate,” Helena chided, even though she patted his back consolingly. “I don’t feel sorry for you.” 

“She always finishes the phrase,” Jason insisted. “This is Mr. Grayson’s fault, I don’t like him, take care of it.” 

Helena snorted, although her phone was vibrating and her attention was slipping. “The students and parents love him, he’s staying. If anyone gets voted off the island, it’s you, for missing last week’s meeting and leaving me at the mercy of Iris West.” 

Jason couldn’t help his grimace. “You’re right, I should’ve been there. Her twins are menaces, I told The Kiddo she can bite them if they annoy her.” 

Helena smacked him on the arm. “You didn’t!” She hissed, leaving the front office with Jason close behind. The halls, bursting with sound only a few minutes prior, were quiet but for the click of Helena’s heels.

“I did; they don’t know when to quit! And their names match. Dawn and Don. It’s pretentious.”

Helena rounded a corner and stopped in front of the teacher’s lounge. Jason’s time with her expiring rapidly. He swallowed, but if she noticed, she didn’t make it known.

“Sometimes,” She huffed, “I am floored by your intelligence and commitment. And then other times, I’m reminded that you’re 22 and a menace.”

“Rude,” Jason retorted. He threw on a lopsided grin. “But while I’m being a menace, that facilities access request—”

“At the PTO meeting!” Helena promised, unlocking the lounge door and slipping her body inside with the dexterity of an eel. “We’ll hash it out at the meeting, and then both you and Dick will owe me drinks. Fair enough?”

Jason scowled. “Good luck convincing him to buy you a drink after you fire him on my behalf.” 

Helena laughed. “Not a chance,” she assured Jason. 

With that, she disappeared into the lounge and shut the door behind her. Jason cursed.

When Jason returned home, Roy was loitering in his driveway, leaned up against the closed garage door so that Jason couldn’t pull in, forced to park on the driveway instead. 

Roy wasn’t alone. 

There was a lanky kid, one Jason knew well, hovering over Roy as if Roy was the sun. Their posture was relaxed and they appeared to be talking casually when Jason pulled up in his sedan, but when Roy met Jason’s eyes, Roy scowled. 

“Hey, Jason,” Roy greeted casually enough when Jason slammed his car door shut and trotted over to meet them. “I was getting to know your guy here.”

Jason’s “guy” looked sheepish. As he should, Jason kept strict rules about when and where his dealers were allowed to meet with him. He was a father, he was president of the PTO, he was a member of the homeowner’s association. He couldn’t bring his dirty laundry home, but if he did, he needed a damn good reason. There wasn’t one this time, not as far as he was aware.

Jason’s nosy across-the-street neighbor was peeking through her blinds again. Jason could feel the weight of her gaze, as much as he could l taste Roy’s sour mood. The longer they stood outside, the more likely there’d be an unpleasant confrontation, one way or another. 

“Let’s head inside,” Jason said. “You too, John. All of us, let’s go.” 

They filed inside, and on a reflex, Jason asked if they wanted anything to eat. 

“Yeah, actually,” Roy said, hopping over the back of Jason’s couch, bouncing once on the cushions, and then stretching out like a massive cat. “I skipped breakfast. Had to run Lian’s overnight bag to Jade because Jade, predictably, forgot.” 

“Oh? Is it Jade’s week already?” Jason asked, disappearing into the kitchen. “John!” He called over his shoulder, just then remembering his uninvited guest. “Do you want anything? I’m making Roy a peanut butter sandwich. I also have coffee or whatever. Enough apple sauce to carry us through nuclear winter.” 

“Uh, no-- no, sir!” John called back, voice nearly quaking. Jason didn’t blame him, after having been stuck with Roy for however long they’d been waiting on Jason. Ever since Roy got sober, he’d taken a hard stance about drug use. Ever since Roy got custody of Lian, even doubly so. But Roy knew about Jason’s business on the side, and he’d never faulted Jason before for doing what he needed to in order to survive. Roy knew better than anyone about bad exes and dangerous circumstances, and Roy knew enough about neglectful, wealthy dads to understand why Jason couldn’t ask for help. 

Roy didn’t know the entirety of The Kiddo’s conception story, but he didn’t need to and he never asked. Jason loved Roy for it. 

Jason returned with two sandwiches, one for himself and one for Roy, both cut into neat triangles by force of habit. He had actual food in the kitchen too, but his meal planning was tailored, and he wasn’t about to interrupt Kiddo’s lunch and dinner schedule by breaking into the fresh ingredients. Fortunately, parenting a toddler meant that there was no shortage of snacks and nonperishables. 

“Alright, speak,” Jason finally said, after scarfing down half his sandwich, mouth sticky and thick around the peanut butter. 

John cleared his throat, but Roy spoke first. “I came to drop off some clothes that The Kiddo left when she and Lian had their sleepover last week, and I found John here, slinking around your front lawn. He said he needed to meet with you about a venture of yours. And I thought to myself, ‘Huh, this kid’s pretty young to be volunteering for the church bake sale.’ So I asked him about the said bake sale, and what do you know, I was right! He _ wasn’t _ involved. But then of course, he still introduced himself as a youth from your church. Where you volunteer. To keep the youth off the streets. Fancy that, huh, Jaybird?” 

Jason burned red. He understood Roy’s accusations, he understood Roy’s vices. But Jason’s anger flared hot and red nonetheless, equal parts offense at Roy’s presumption and embarrassment that Roy caught yet another glance into the ugly pieces of Jason’s life. 

“It’s not like that, fuck off, man,” Jason muttered, before casting a sharp glance at John. “Do as I say, not as I do,” he lectured John, nearly wagging his finger. “Foul language won’t make anyone take you seriously.” 

Roy snorted. “God, do you hear yourself? Jason, you told me you didn’t involve any kids!” 

“I’m, uh,” John cleared his throat again. “I’m 26.” 

Roy closed his mouth with a click. 

“Oh. Oh, shit, Jay, he’s older than you.”

Jason shot Roy a look, but John’s nervousness gave way to a lopsided, hesitant, grin. 

“Is that true, Red? We’ve got a betting pool on your age, but this is the first solid lead we’ve had.” 

Jason threw a piece of his sandwich crust at Roy, it bounced off Roy’s face and landed on the scotch guarded carpet. Jason scooped it up immediately, the gesture lost in the face of Jason’s yet-to-be-diagnosed-OCD.

“Don’t get too excited, and don’t go spreading that information around,” Jason warned. “You still need to explain what the hell you’re doing, showing up to my place like this. You know better; you know that I’ve got a kid. And that kid’s mom is a real demon.” 

“I know, I know,” John glanced down at the carpet, an effort at penance, perhaps. But when he looked up, there was only resolve. “But I had an… issue, I needed help with. It’s not work-related.”

Jason swallowed, preparing for something severe, something he’d have to open his Glock's lockbox to handle, something he’d have to hire a babysitter over. 

“A letter of recommendation,” John blurted. Jason blinked, and Roy burst into laughter. 

“I’m sorry, but are you asking for a reference from your weed distributor?” Roy snorted. “Kid, you’re barking up the wrong tree--” 

“He’s not just a dealer!” John interrupted. “My little brother’d be out doing what we are if not for his youth program at the church. It’s a real inspiration, I’m using the, you know, appropriate parts of the story for my personal statement. For school and all. That’s what the letter is for.” He looked Jason in the eyes. “I don’t want to be all talk. I wanna be action too, like Red.”

When John left, Jason’s shell shocked promise of a letter in tow, Roy’s laughter had calmed, replaced instead by an air of severity. 

“God, you, a mentor. Knew you’d be a great one, didn’t think it’d happen so soon,” Roy mused. “Or that your mentorship would extend to your criminal enterprises.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Jason muttered, kicking him lightly. “You act like I’m a criminal kingpin. I’m a low-level pot distributor who slings Indica blends to bored suburbanites.” 

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re a father and a volunteer. Speaking of which, how’s the facility request going?”

Roy picked up their plates and loaded them in Jason’s dishwasher while Jason followed, shoulders slouched and hands buried in his jacket pockets. 

“Not great. Bertinelli’s humoring the controversy. There’s nothing even illegal going on, but the way the new events coordinator is acting, you’d think I asked to start a meth lab in the cafeteria. He’s getting on my fucking nerves, Roy.” 

“New coordinator?” Roy asked, looking up with furrowed brows. “I thought Dinah was coordinating. She out?” 

Jason gave Roy a long-suffering glare. “Have you been skipping meetings?”

“Only when you do,” Roy shrugged. “‘Sides, Lian’s in a different class than The Kiddo. If there was a turnover, there’s no harm in getting a late update.” 

“Well,” Jason muttered, “Dinah’s gone, and she’s been replaced by another teacher, and he’s a fucking pill.” 

“Which one? I thought the teachers loved you. You’re a pain in the ass, maybe, but you’re also invested and generous with the teacher wish lists.” 

Jason hesitated before answering. Roy had his own relationships with the staff, no need to sour his opinion before Grayson had the chance to meet him at their next PTO meeting. Then again, Jason was on a warpath. 

“Dick Grayson. He’s The Kiddo’s teacher and gymnastics coach. Fucking private schools and their fucking gymnastics. It’s all The Kiddo can talk about lately.”

Roy spit out the juice box he’d swiped from the cupboard. “I’m sorry, what? Dick Grayson? Like, Richard Grayson?”

Jason scowled. “Yeah, unless there are other Richards running around in 2019 with that kind of nickname. Honestly, we should sanction him for foul language, these are our _ children _.” Jason hopped up on the counter and leaned his head back until it bumped against his cabinet. He blinked miserably up at the ceiling. And then immediately regretted it, because he needed to dust. 

“The kids call him Mr. Grayson,” Roy snorted. “Also, it’s his name. _Also,_ you can’t sanction teachers. Nothing in the bylaws about that.” 

“Maybe we should revisit the bylaws, then,” Jason grumbled, lifting his head. “Wrest some control from a school system that’s neglecting our progeny’s delicate, malleable psyches.” 

“God, this is like that time you thought early exposure to peanuts would give The Kiddo an allergy and nearly came to blows with Lois over whether or not kids could bring their own snacks. She made an entire speech about utilitarianism and civil liberties. I think her resulting journal entry about preventative allergen exposure and the peanut industry won an award.”

“Yeah, and that’s what Grayson thinks he’s doing too,” Jason muttered. “Except at least Lois is qualified to crusade. Mr. Grayson’s no lawyer, and he’s citing a constitutional amendment that doesn’t even apply to private schools. Who the fuck does he think he is? This is a charitable youth program, how obnoxious do you have to argue with that?”

Roy shrugged, hopping on the counter. “Sure, it’s not _ illegal _, but he’s not the only one concerned about religious entanglements in the school. It’s a private institution, but we enjoy a fairly neutral environment for the kids. And can you imagine Damian’s reaction if he noticed any sort of religious encroachment? Bruce’ll have the school shut down with the week.”

Jason’s mood plummeted at the speed of sound with the mention of his adopted brother. “Please don’t,” he begged Roy. “I don’t want to think about them right now. Not when Talia’s breathing down my neck.” 

Roy pursed his lips. “I know I don’t know whatever the hell happened there,” Jason opened his mouth, but Roy held up a hand, “and I don’t want to know unless you’re willing to tell me. But it’s fucked up that you and Bruce take your kids to the same school and won’t even look at each other. I bet Damian misses you. You and him have a lot in common, what with the hell-demon and all.” 

“Stop,” Jason snapped. “We don’t. And she’s his mom, I’m not going to talk shit about his mom in front of him, anymore more than I’d let him do the same in front of The Kiddo.” Jason hopped off the counter to pace in a tight loop. “It’s a fucked-up situation and it shouldn’t have happened, and it’s something Bruce could have stopped if he had half a mind. I don’t want to talk about it right now, though. The meeting’s this evening, and then I promised Kiddo a trip to the park. We’re going to have a nice fucking time at the park, without Talia or Bruce or Dick fucking Grayson.”

“Oh?” Roy asked, shoulders tense but expression bland. Measured. “Which one? Can I tag along? I hate when the nest’s empty. I want Lian to have a relationship with her mom, but then I miss her too much.” 

Jason’s twisted scowl softened. “Yeah, of course, you can. You know you can always stay the night if you don’t want to be home alone, The Kiddo would love it.” 

Roy frowned, hopping off the counter and pulling Jason into a tight hug. Jason initially writhed and squirmed to get free, but eventually, he succumbed, as he always did, into the hold. 

“You know I love you, man, but you can’t let me hang off you like that. You’ve got your own life.” Roy released him with a clap to his shoulder. “Speaking of which, I thought your therapist told you to date? Doctor’s orders and all? How’s that coming along?” 

Jason rolled his eyes and pointedly turned his back to Roy. 

“No, she suggested it might be time, if I so chose. I’m going at my own pace right now. I’ve got too much going on, and shit’s too complicated with Talia. Besides, I don’t want people in and out of The Kiddo’s life. She needs consistency at this age,” Jason said haughtily, fidgeting with kitchen towels because he was committed to maintaining the appearance of purpose in the midst of his pouting.

Roy hummed. “Alright, man, but let me know if you ever need a wingman though. I think the last time I played wingman, it was for-- oh, right. Dick.”

Jason froze and then abruptly swiveled on his heels to face Roy’s shit-eating grin. “I’m sorry?” Jason asked, his voice pitched as betrayal tightened his throat. “Are you saying you fucking know Dick Grayson?” 

Roy smirked. “Yeah, in a past life. Also, in this life. We grew up together. Got a little estranged somewhere amid the, you know,” Roy waved his hand noncommittally as he often did when alluding to his addictions and related relapses, “but we reconnected a couple of years ago. He’s a good guy.” Roy’s face brightened and Jason wanted to hit him. “And I think he’s single.”

“Please. Shut up,” Jason hissed. “I’m not going to date him, he’s trying to kick my fundraiser off the calendar.” 

“No, he’s trying to make an inclusive learning environment,” Roy qualified. 

“He’s being awfully exclusive about his inclusivity,” Jason shot back. Roy shrugged. 

“He’s got a pretty strong sense of right or wrong. A lot like you, but different rules. Not saying he’s never wrong, but he’s always right by his own understanding. He’s stubborn as a mule, but it makes him a good friend. I think you two actually have a lot more in common than you think.” 

Jason groaned. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. After all, we’ve been through. God, get out of my house,” Jason waved vaguely towards his front door. “Grab the knife from my back on your way.”

Roy laughed out loud, shoving Jason as he walked past to resettle on the couch. “Whatever, dude. Have you ever considered community theater? You’re dramatic enough. A natural performer.” Roy perked up. “Like Dick! He was a performer once, you should ask him about it.” 

Jason wanted to argue, but an idea struck. He poked his head in the living room as Roy logged into his Netflix account on the Roku.

“Actually, I know how you can make it up to me,” Jason offered. 

“Make what up to you?” Roy snorted. “My unconditional love and concern for your mental and emotional well-being?”

“Sure, that,” Jason waved flippantly. “But, since you know Dick, talk to him for me. Meet him for coffee, get him to cut this shit out. You know that this fundraiser’s good, you’ve met John, you heard what he said about his little brother. This shit helps kids, and if Dick gives a shit about kids, which, he better, then he can be reasoned with.”

Roy frowned, tossing the remote and giving Jason his full attention. “If this is such an issue, why don’t you talk to him? I can set up a meeting, we’ll all go grab a coffee or something?” 

Jason scowled. “Bertinelli is already making me speak to him, and I don’t have the same history with him, you’ll get farther.” 

“You’re coming with, or I’m grabbing a coffee with Dick to talk about how much I fucking love American civil liberties,” Roy warned. Jason threw up his hands. 

“I’m not opposed to civil liberties! I’m opposed to drawing an arbitrary line in the sand over facilities access! We’re not even a public school, all liberties are intact!” 

Roy chewed his lip and regarded Jason, dressed in his righteous fury. “Fine. I’ll mention it to Dick. But you have to go on at least one Tinder date in return.” 

“Roy, I can’t,” Jason said, sounding like a broken record even to himself. “I don’t split custody with Talia, not in any formal sense, so I’m essentially taking care of The Kiddo on my own. I can’t dump her for the evening to go gallivant with a stranger. And it’s not like I could ever take anyone home, most people don’t like reminders that you have a kid on the first date.”

Roy huffed, flopping back down on the couch. “Alright, whatever. What you need is another parent or someone into childcare. I’ll work on it.” 

“You will do no such thing,” Jason warned. Roy whistled a pleasant tune. 

That afternoon, when Jason returned to the school to pick up The Kiddo, he arrived early to catch Helena unprepared and unhindered by other parents in the hallway. 

“Jason,” She said, lips pursed when his plan inevitably succeeded. “Punctual as usual.” 

He crossed his arms “There’s no point in dragging this out over the next several meetings because I am not above filibustering the shit out of this,” he said, without preamble. Helena glanced about them for tiny, listening ears. Jason had the decency to wince at his own language. 

When she was sure there weren’t any students afoot, Helena frowned softly at Jason. “I know you’re anxious and want this over with, but I’ve spoken to Dick and we’ve agreed that whatever the decision, we need to be a unified front. To do that, we need to decide on our message. He had to leave to escort a student home after an incident--”

“Oh, was it Damian?” Jason smirked. Damian frequently engaged in fights, ranging from verbal barbs to physical altercations. There hadn’t been an incident in a while. Not one that Jason knew about. 

Then, Jason frowned. “Oh, it was Damian, wasn’t it? I could have taken him home. His dad and I aren’t on great terms, but I’m his brother.” Helena knew that. Jason was still on Damian’s approved guardian list, as far as he knew. Why wasn’t he called?

“Dick and Bruce have an arrangement,” Helena said. “Consider it an unofficial Big Brother/Big Sister program. Dick has been able to connect with Damian in a way that his peers and other adults haven’t, and you know better than anyone the sort of trauma Damian is facing.” 

Given that The Kiddo and Damian were half-siblings, yeah, Jason did. 

“Bruce didn’t tell me,” Jason muttered. “I didn’t even know Bruce knew Dick.” 

“He and Damian knew Dick before we ever hired him, from Dick’s previous work. But, it would be unprofessional for me to discuss Bruce with another parent,” Helena said firmly. “Him or any details, like, say,” she added with a tilt of her head and flick of her wrist, “his poor communication skills, stunted emotional capacity, and obstinance.” 

Jason offered her a small smile as thanks, but his gratitude lasted only for a moment. 

“And what about Dick?” He pushed again.

Helena chewed her lip. “I only give you as much as I do because I respect your work in the community,” she warned. “And because you’re almost like a younger brother to me. But you need to speak with him, and not just about him if you want to move forward with any of this.” 

“I don’t know anything about him--” Jason began to retort, but she held up a hand.

“I can tell you that we poached him from the staff of a halfway house for juvenile offenders. The fact that he’s also a skilled gymnast with a background in acrobatics was just a bonus.” She paused before saying, “He’s a good man, Jason. You two are a lot alike. He won’t make today’s meeting, but I want you to sit down with him and have this discussion. I’ll support whatever decision you two arrive at.” 

Other parents began filtering in, the tension thick enough to leech into their expressions as they eyed Helena and Jason from afar, and so Jason let it go.

That is, until the next day, when he once again brought The Kiddo to school through the front entrance to meet with Mr. Grayson. He was there, and when he saw Jason he beamed so brightly, Jason could feel the sunburn across his cheeks. 

Or maybe Mr. Grayson was looking at The Kiddo. That was much more likely, and Jason quelled the urge to look away even as The Kiddo ran into his arms and threw herself into him. 

“We need to talk,” Jason warned, very much ignoring the way Dick’s biceps flexed beneath his button-up as Dick lifted Jason’s child with a tenderness The Kiddo didn’t see enough from even her mother. 

“Of course. I have a planning period to myself this evening, at 3ish, in lieu of gymnastics. Is that alright?”

Jason blinked. “Sure. I’ll meet you here.”

At 5:23 pm, Jason straightened his shirt for the nth time, fretting over the wrinkles. He didn’t know what possessed him to change before returning to the school for his meeting with Mr. Grayson, or what possessed him to return at exactly 3:00 pm, but he had, and now he felt silly both for having changed and for waiting for Mr. Grayson for hours. Of course, just as he considered leaving, Dick appeared around the corner. Jason’s breath caught in his throat at Dick’s long legs and easy smile. 

“Hey, sorry about that,” Dick beamed. Jason was distracted enough that it took him a moment to remember why Dick would apologize. “I had a parent meeting, it took a bit longer than I expected.”

“You don’t need to be polite,” Jason offered once he’d gathered himself, leaning against the wall in the hope that he looked nonchalant. “I know how parents are. I am one.” 

Dick laughed again, this time, Jason liked to imagine, a bit more naturally. A bit more organically. Jason could have melted against the painted cinder block. 

“I won’t confirm or deny,” Dick said, “but you’re a sight for sore eyes. Let’s talk.” 

Jason blinked, but Dick wasn’t finished. 

“But over dinner,” Dick continued. “I left you waiting, the least I can do is buy you a meal. Babysitters aren’t cheap, I don’t have one of my own, but I know that much,” Dick insisted. Jason swallowed.

“She’s, uh, she’s with her mom. It’s at no cost to me,” Aside from his peace of mind and ability to sit still. “And I really can’t ask that--” he began, but Dick tilted his head with that half-cocked smile that reminded Jason of Harrison Ford, and Jason frowned as his words caught again. 

“Seriously, I’m starving, it’s more for my benefit than yours. I know a great place uptown if you’re okay carpooling,” Dick said, filling the silence as Jason created it.

Jason nodded before he even registered that he’d done so, and then he was in the passenger seat of Dick’s Buick LeSabre, a car better suited to an octogenarian than the smooth, sweet-faced man behind the wheel. 

“Sorry, I know it’s a bit trashed,” Dick said, for the nth time. Jason swallowed. “I keep a neat curriculum, a neat classroom, a neat gym, something had to give, you know?” 

“No,” Jason confessed, eyeing a fast-food wrapper on the floorboard. “I don’t, but I do understand if that makes any sense.” 

Dick shrugged. “I’ll take it.” 

They rode in relative quiet, Jason memorizing every wrinkle on the wrapper to avoid memorizing the crinkle of Dick’s face as he rolled his eyes at a fellow driver, or as he snorted at a bumper sticker on a neighboring car. 

When they arrived, Jason was relieved to see the restaurant was a casual hole in the wall, a city-staple, one that denoted casual affairs and cheap eats. Not that he was terribly concerned about expenses, Talia’s most recent child support offering weighed heavy in his bank account, but nevertheless: Jason couldn’t cope if this were anything more. 

The wait staff knew Jason, but they knew Dick too, and Jason was terrified to find that stirred approval in his gut. 

“You come here often?” Jason asked as they took their seats. 

“I try,” Dick offered, planting his elbow on the table and propping his chin in his hand to give Jason his full attention. Jason squirmed, and then took a steadying breath against the weight of Dick’s gaze.

“To cut the shit,” Jason said, as soon as the waiter left with their drink orders, “I just need the assembly hall for a fundraiser. I’m not asking for a sermon, I’m not hosting a prayer. Even if I were? The school is fine to do so, under the law. But I’m not, and this only serves to benefit children,” he paused for effect before adding, “I can’t imagine keeping The Kiddo in a school that stakes an issue with child welfare.”

Dick raised his eyebrows. “Make no mistake, we pride ourselves on our commitment to child welfare, and I think Helena would cut my tongue out if she knew I’d given the appearance of anything but. At the same time, I know you know that Gotham has been dominated by Roman Catholics, and I’ve worked hard to encourage an inclusive classroom and a diverse student body. I don’t want there to be any inkling among parents or students that we have religious affiliations that could promote exclusion.” 

Jason frowned. “You’re presuming the assumption of prejudice over an event that doesn’t take place during classroom hours. This isn’t inclusionary, it’s obnoxious.” 

Dick snorted, and Jason’s face flushed, although he didn’t budge his leveled glare. He couldn’t, not when his dealer’s earlier confession still hung heavy on Jason’s conscious. 

“You wouldn’t be the first to call me obnoxious, and you won’t be the last, but I’m not going to change my mind. I think this is a bad idea and that it blurs unnecessary lines,” Dick began. Jason opened his mouth, but Dick smiled softly. “Hold on, okay?” 

Jason closed his mouth. 

Dick finished, “But only as long as it _ remains _ separate from class time hours, and if I can use it to leverage my campaign against the annual holiday pageant. With your endorsement.”

“I don’t know,” Jason mused. “The Kiddo looks really cute dressed as a manger sheep.” 

Dick raised his eyebrows and Jason frowned, sliding back into his chair. 

“So all it took was dinner for you to cave? I’d heard so many stories about how stubborn you are, this feels too easy.” Jason muttered. “I expected an argument, you just gave me what I wanted.” 

Dick smirked. “I’d be willing to give you most anything you wanted if you’d just ask.” 

Jason reared back and Dick sat up, straight as a rod, his expression sobering. 

“Sorry, that was inappropriate.” Dick had the decency to look sheepish, and Jason was horrified to find that Dick wore even contrition well. 

“You flirt with every parent who accuses you of bad policy?” Jason snorted, looking off to the side to avoid meeting Dick’s apologetic, probing gaze. He heard, rather than saw, Dick’s offense. 

“No, of course not,” Dick retorted. “I’m a professional, I don’t make a habit out of this. Especially not when I’m teaching and coaching _ and _blockading one of my students and her parent.” There was a pause, and Jason risked a glance at Dick, only to find that Dick had also chosen to fixate his pinched expression behind Jason, rather than at Jason. 

“But it’s not often my students’ parents look like you-- or carry notoriety like you,” Dick shrugged and then toyed with the edge of his napkin in such a fashion that appeared boyishly bashful and nonchalant at the same time. Jason hated him for it. Jason also could have kissed him. “It’s not okay, I know that but I like you, Jason. I promise you I won’t treat The Kiddo any differently for it, but I’d understand if you wanted her transferred to a different class. And feel free to report me to Helena, it might make her day, she’s been warning me about you for a couple of weeks now.”

“Weeks?” Jason hissed, leaning forward and finally catching Dick’s albeit surprised attention. “Mr. Gray-- Dick, I didn’t meet you until a few days ago. You didn’t _ start _ until about a week ago.” 

“Oh, Roy talks,” Dick murmured, leaning back. “And I’m inclined to listen; he’s a close friend, I trust his judgment. He honestly talks about you so much, I made up this idea of you. Not to mention The Kiddo-- do you know, when she told me you liked to bike and that she needed help drawing a bike for your father’s day card, I wasn’t exactly expecting a motorcycle. Much less, I wasn’t expecting her to know what make and model. I pictured you as a silver fox. But you’re young, and that’s_ really _ impressive given your involvement-- don’t look at me like that, I told you, I’m not usually--”

Jason adjusted his expression. “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“You think the worst of me,” Dick snorted. “I can ask Helena to have The Kiddo transferred into a different class, I wouldn’t blame you--”

“Don’t,” Jason paused, shaking his head. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Dick. I don’t think you’re a poor teacher, just a poor judge of character. Maybe a bit delusional. Possibly easy led astray by ideas, rather than people. You do come across as an ideologue,” Jason tallied off, extending a finger for each of his points. He retracted his hand when he caught Dick’s lingering gaze. “You’d think better if you knew me,” Jason warned. “You’re letting Roy get in your head. And The Kiddo shouldn’t know the make of my motorcycle, she should know her colors and her alphabet and the sounds farm animals make.”

“She knows those things too,” Dick said, straightening as the waiter returned with their drink orders. Water for Dick, a beer for Jason. Jason wondered if Dick was refraining for Jason’s benefit, but then again, Dick didn’t appear to refrain for anyone’s benefit. 

Dick ordered, and then Jason chose the first thing that caught his eye when he finally glanced at the menu. The waiter left, and the two men regarded each other again. 

“She’s smart. You’re smart and committed. I’m not going to pretend I don’t like you, Jason,” Dick warned. 

“Yes, well, you’re ignorant,” Jason shot back. Dick’s eyebrows drew together and he flinched, but Jason continued, “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know why I’m a single father, you don’t know what I do for a living. How I afford The Kiddo’s school, how I treat her grandfather. If you did, we’d be talking in your classroom, where we belong.” 

Dick frowned, but didn’t retort, not for several minutes. Jason’s accusations hung in the air while Dick sipped at his water, and so, finally, Jason sipped at his own beer. It tasted especially sour, and he set it back down. Finally, Dick cleared his throat. 

“I know you care enough to show to every one of your child’s conferences, exhibitions, and after school meetings. I know you’re the self-made son of a billionaire, whose philanthropy took a decided turn for the altruistic after he adopted you. I know that you host fundraisers to keep young people off the streets, more so than to raise money. I’ve seen your church’s 501(c)3 filings, you have plenty of charitable donations courtesy of the Wayne Foundation alone.” This time, Jason reared back, but Dick continued, “I know that you’re a young, single father who has committed himself to the betterment of his child’s life and his child’s community, and that’s more than enough for dinner. The rest you can tell me, or not tell me, yourself, but I’m not ignorant. I’m making an informed decision.” 

“And what if it’s a bad one?” Jason shot back. Dick shrugged. 

“Then I’ll figure that out for myself.”

Jason sat back and crossed his arms. “This is wildly inappropriate.” 

“I know,” Dick confessed. “I know it is.” 

“We can’t let The Kiddo know,” Jason added. 

Dick winced. “I won’t, not if you say no, not if you say yes. I respect your boundaries, Jason.” 

Jason nearly shuddered over the thought. 

“I’m disclosing this to Helena,” Jason warned. 

“Please do,” Dick said. “I’ve already spoken to her about the potentiality.” 

“I’m not a silver fox.”

“I’ve been banned from those,” Dick said, very seriously.

Jason blinked and then chose not to unpack whatever Dick had just confessed.

Jason snorted instead, even as his chest fluttered. “We’ll never work out.” 

“I’m willing to try,” Dick offered.

“You wouldn’t if you knew me,” Jason shot back, all nerves and dread. “I’ve got serious baggage.” Dick met his glare with a grin. 

“So do I,” Dick insisted. “You’re not special.” 

Taken aback, Jason blinked before frowning and snapping back, “I deal pot,” much too loudly. Other patrons glanced their way, and Jason slid in his seat to shield his face. Dick watched him with a soft expression. 

“Under the pseudonym Red Hood, right?” Dick asked. When Jason’s eyes widened in horror, Dick shook his head. “Relax. I only know because I maintain relationships with former students and clients from a previous job. You’re pretty popular, I hear great things about your customer service.” 

“Are you going to tell Bertinelli?” Jason asked, eyebrows furrowed. Dick waved his hand.

“‘No. Depending on the source and distribution, it’s a victimless crime. But it’s hard to be a single dad, and everyone needs hobbies. Just watch who you’re dealing to—“

“I do,” Jason asserted ferociously. Dick smiled again. 

“Great. I figured you did, nothing I’ve heard about you would contradict that. Can we go on a date now, or are you going to keep arguing with me?”

“I don’t know; if I go on a date with you, does Kiddo get 20 extra minutes of snack time?” Jason griped. 

Dick laughed. “Absolutely not.” 

Their food arrived and the dinner continued on, the conversation congenial if a bit shallow. Jason skirted any conversation regarding his circumstances, and Dick skirted information regarding his previous job and his youth. Jason found he liked the evasive behavior more than what must have been healthy. 

But then, Dick was escorting him back to Dick’s car, and they were alone at the chasm of potentiality that happens when grown adults go for dinner. 

They walked close, too close; it was all so intimate. It hadn’t been mentioned, but Jason couldn’t help but try and mentally track when he’d last had sex. It was definitely before The Kiddo was born. Talia had been his first, and his last, and he could already feel his palms grow clammy. He wiped them on his jeans.

“I, uh,” Jason said, as Dick opened his car door for him. Dick cocked his head at him. “Er, thanks,” Jason said, quickly, ducking into the passenger seat. Dick rounded the car and slid into the driver’s side. 

“Don’t mention it,” Dick said mildly. “I had a good time, I appreciate you giving me the time.”

The car started, but no music began, Dick having turned it off earlier while they spoke on the way to the restaurant. The silence was deafening.

Jason squirmed in his seat, but Dick appeared perfectly comfortable, eventually humming aimlessly as he drove.

“Your address?” Dick asked. Jason blinked as he processed what Dick had asked.

“Oh, right,” Jason mumbled, giving Dick the address and then sinking lower into his seat. After a few more minutes of silence, Jason couldn’t bear it.

“Uh, so you know Kiddo’s with her mom,” Jason began, cheeks already flushing. “But, I’m not—I haven’t—fuck,” he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Sorry, I sound like a teenager.”

Dick snorted, but when Jason dared to open his eyes, Dick’s side glance was nothing but soft.

“It’s okay, I don’t expect anything from you,” Dick assured him. “This wasn’t even a date, it was a parent/teacher meeting that I turned into something I shouldn’t have. I promise I won’t feel bad if you don’t invite me in.”

Frustration bubbled in Jason’s gut. The very real part of Jason’s libido that screamed whenever Dick smiled or glanced his way was babbling in the back of Jason’s mind.

“No,” Jason blurted. “No, you can come in. Please, come in. I have this entire bottle of cabernet sauvignon that I got as a gift, like, six months ago. It’s collecting dust, and you didn’t have a drink at the restaurant.”

Dick laughed and then whistled. “I don’t think I’ve had a drink in a while, actually. Not a lot of opportunity between class and, well, class. When I’m not teaching, I’m generally advising with the police department. But sure, just don’t laugh at me when it turns out I’ve got the tolerance of a high schooler.”

Jason snorted. “You underestimate the metabolism and tenacity of high schoolers,” he teased. “You probably have the tolerance of a middle schooler at best. We can always stop at a convenience store and snag you a six-pack of Smirnoff Ice if that’s more your taste.”

Dick laughed again, easy and bubbling in a way that Jason couldn’t imagine. “Oh, _ ferme ta guele _.”

“Did you tell me to fuck off in French?” Jason murmured. The streetlights and passing cars tossed their lights into the car, casting shadows under Dick’s attractively sharp cheekbones. “Pretentious, much?”

Dick winced, never looking away from the road. “Oh, sorry. Sort of? Teacher. I can’t curse around the kids, so the other teachers and I have adopted a few different choice languages. I pity the middle school teachers; that’s when most of the language courses begin for the kids and they have to get obscure. I get away with French, given the only language alternative, we offer the kindergartners is Latin. The Kiddo’s doing great in Latin, by the way. She’s gonna be a polyglot, I can already tell.”

Jason held his breath. “You don’t, uh, mind? Talking about Kiddo? When we’re doing this?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrowed, and Jason resisted the urge to reach out and smooth out the wrinkles with the pad of his thumb. “Of course not. She’s your whole world. She’s part of mine, too. If you’d prefer me not, I won’t, but I like talking about my students and she’s especially bright. She’s got good genes, I guess,” Dick said with a smirk. Jason flushed again.

“Oh, fuck off,” Jason snorted. “You’re all flattery, you know.”

“Nah,” Dick disagreed easily, turning into Jason’s neighborhood. Jason’s stomach tightened. “Can’t be flattery if it’s sincere.” He parked on the curb next to Jason’s house and killed the engine, twisting to look at Jason fully for the first time since they’d left. Jason swallowed.

“You don’t have to do this,” Dick reminded him.

“Don’t tell me what to do, or not to do,” Jason growled, shoving forward to press his lips against Dick’s. It was awkward, and Jason was hot, hot, hot, but Dick braced a hand on Jason’s shoulder and soothed the kiss by taking lead, for which Jason was silently grateful. Before long, Jason was melting into Dick, and Dick was tugging Jason forward. The car was too small for Jason to climb into Dick’s lap, but god, he wanted to. Then, Dick pulled away.

“You’ve been drinking,” Dick breathed between them. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Hardly. Won’t say no if you want to catch up.”

Jason caught Dick watching his lips, and a thrill shivered up his spine. Finally, Dick nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go inside. Get you some water, I’ll get some wine. We can watch something that doesn’t have a sing-along, sound good?”

“Yeah,” Jason muttered, already tangling with his seatbelt. “Fine by me.”

They stumbled into the house. Jason didn’t remember feeling so drunk before their kiss, but now he could barely keep his keys straight as he unlocked the front door. Dick was behind him; Jason could feel the heat from his body, and he could only imagine what the neighbors were thinking.

Fuck the neighbors.

Jason drug Dick into the house and then pressed him into the entryway wall, perhaps more gently than was appropriate for the heat simmering between them.

“You sure?” Dick asked, but Jason was already murmuring affirmations and consent against his mouth.

When they separated again, they were both panting.

“Fuck,” Dick murmured. Jason beamed.

“Got ya to say it,” Jason bragged. 

“‘Course you did,” Dick conceded, gently pecking Jason’s temple in such a way that was too ginger, too intimate. Jason flushed. “From what I’ve heard, you’re terribly convincing. Apparently, PTO meetings with you at the helm are an experience.” 

Jason reared back away from Dick and Dick’s gentle touches. “Wine,” he blurted by way of explanation, gesturing vaguely towards the house proper. Dick cocked his head but followed Jason into the kitchen. He watched while Jason twisted open the lone bottle of red wine in his apartment. Jason tried not to tremble as he poured two glasses. 

“We can go slower,” Dick murmured, once both glasses were just a touch too full for a casual nightcap. Jason jerked up, spilling some wine. 

“Oh,” Jason said, putting the bottle aside to snag paper towels and mop up the mild mess. “What makes you say that?”

Dick shrugged, taking the paper towels from Jason and tossing them in the silver trash can that was nearer to Dick than to Jason. “A lot of what we know about each other is hearsay. So let’s slow down and just talk. Roy says rumors of my reputation precede me.” 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Roy can fuck off. All I’ve heard about you are glowing reviews. You’re practically a saint. I read you as sanctimonious, but that’s just me.” There was no venom to Jason’s voice, and Dick responded in earnest. 

“I’m not,” Dick assured him. “A saint, I mean.”

Jason glanced at Dick up and down. “Then prove it,” he pushed. “Prove to me that you’re a person and not just some dick trying to steal my kid’s favoritism. And then we’ll see how far and how fast we can go” 

“Did you just make a pun? God, I think I’m in love,” Dick cooed. 

“Dick!” Jason scolded. 

Dick ducked his head to grin, but when he looked up, his eyes were bright. “Alright, I’ll prove it.” 

Something about Dick’s promise felt like a challenge stirring in Jason’s gut, a gauntlet in the sand between them. 

Jason pushed the wine aside.


End file.
